VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2020 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2020 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.
BACK of medal inscription:
Pro pace et fraternitate gentium
(For the peace and brotherhood of men)
O, the irony of an 'honor' losing its merit. Consequently, the following campaign regretfully invokes one's watermeloncholia. Doesn't take much to do so.
Is the current incarnation of the Nobel 'worth' trying to restore with 'worthy' nominations? Is there a mo' pointed philosophical argument, with Stockholm glaring errors aside, that just the idea of 'awarding' the highest of humanitarianism might counter productivity of inspiration? Such deeds of dire dignity - when authentic, such moments of intense conscientiousness beyond self interest? Are those rare ego-drained displays not ostensibly born of a humility-laced courage wherein the notion of 'reward' is void by the exalted altruistic act?
Just...don' know.
Ay, this specific cause, e-'linked' per thy perusal, is most worthy as timely. But what is worth 'it'? And what is not? Or in the vicinity of a regalia-ed nod but not quite enuf for distinguished consideration? And what of 'worth'? Is 'worth' mere nebulous noun or concrete concept? And who are we to applaud one deliberate act of grace above the invisible, infinite others - neva acknowledged, yet entirely responsible for holding up the delicate fabric that weaves our very dignity as a risky species?
Just...don' know.
Reminiscent of "Oscar So White" hashtags. Or is that comparison too trite? To those micro protests one could only manage barely a bristle: "Why do you, so-called Autonomous-Ethnic-Ethos-in-Revolt, even give a fig - or gnawed H2Omelon rind - about the Academy? How does a vote from such an antiquated source elevate your artistry? Why do you even need 'their' warped acceptance to affirm your craft?" In 'kind', the Nobel committee sacrificed its own relevance in innumerable examples of exclusion.
Thus here we are at present. Contemplating a campaign for Cuba. Or to feign some political pragmatism: rooting for the Caribbean island's doctors. Once mo', begging to be seen, willing to accept the illusion of visibility (to Other). Yet again.
Just...don' know.
This quill is too much a feather afloat - currently lacking the depth of an impulse of integrity, that necessary weight of conviction. To simply sign. Albeit liberal guilt is heavy and therefor inclined to assist. By no means 'anchor' yet perhaps direct the following existential musing - less adrift. Maybe heeding Voltaire:
Le mieux est l'ennemi du bien.
(The perfect is the enemy of the good.)
Furthamo'? One is fully aware of the unnerving 'now' of this request. And yet? Just a bit too near November Third - a date already as defunct as the Nobel Peace Prize. Due to COVID-conscious mail-in ballots, the results shall likely find us all scratching our napps whilst collectively uttering:
Just...don' know.
And again, November Third's point is not only void in its presumed aftermath. Its implications may count matter before the contentious count. One plans not to mail her ballot but double-glove it into the official election drop box at our County Clerk's office in October. Just prior to taking a knife to carve a crooked smile. Into a pumpkin - an edible squash whose nutritional value will be forfeited for decor. Once alive albeit on a low coiled vine. At least grounded as visibly prominent amongst all garden's produce. Soon forced to grin - until it rots. Its seeds' fate? Salty. And roasted.
It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
© Charles Schulz
Just...as soon as said official election orange flesh...arrives.
The only choice will be whether to use a black or blue ball-point. Black n' blue: the colors of bruises on skin or ink from a pen. That non-decision will be followed by a rather frantic 'shading' in of that compromised, empty Oval to denote a political ticket. Eerie echo of this ambivalent exercise in bequeathin' a broken crown unto one undeserving.
Then again...
Maybe there is one campaign raising our level - at least with allowance for an allusion to some semblance of sum'in nigh betta.
a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility
of POSTness
Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...
© 2020 KM Fikes
© 2020 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.
